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Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Join author Stephanie Burkhart on her Name Before
the Masses Review Tour for Sunrise Over Brasov, presented by Goddess Fish Promotions, from 11/26/13 –
1/14/14. Please leave a comment or
question for Stephanie to let her know you stopped by. Stephanie will be awarding A Sunrise Over
Brasov Coffee and Chocolate Basket (which includes a Coffee Mug, Starbucks gift
card, Andes Chocolate, magnets, and Lori Powell original book bag) to one
randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
You can follow the rest of Stephanie’s tour here, the more stops you
visit the better your odds of winning.

Rosa
Getzi lives a life of intrigue at Poiana Brasov with Clement, a werewolf, and
Cassandra, the witch. Her past doesn't matter to her – until she discovers what
it holds.

Prince Michael Sigmaringen joins his sister-in-law, Caroline, and the vampire
prince, Darius, in a daring rescue, igniting Rosa's desire to find her family.
However, all is not as it appears. Rickard, Rosa's friend, escapes with her.
Clement will go to any lengths to get Rosa and Rickard back.

At Darius' fortress, Michael soon discovers Rickard is a new breed of werewolf
– one who can control the change, and Clement hopes to exploit Rickard's
abilities.

Michael's courage, strengths, and convictions will be tested like never before.
Can Michael and Rosa find true happiness and the rid the lupine haunting of the
Sigmaringens once and for all?

Some
inner voice encouraged her to leave with him. It was the right thing to do. "Turn around,"
she said quietly.

"Why?"

"So
I can change."

"I
don't trust you." His reply was quick. "Leave your chemise on."
He walked to the window and glanced outside, then checked his pocket watch.

Rosa
figured that was the most privacy he was willing to afford her and unfastened
her robe. Quickly, she stepped into the winter dress without putting on a
corset. "I need you to lace up the back."

Michael
approached and tied up the stays with familiar ease. There was that word again
-- familiar. Rosa shivered. What did it mean? How was he familiar when she
couldn't recall seeing him before? She found her boots and slid them on. They
were lined with fur and went up to her knees. She couldn't articulate her
compliance, but could say an instinctual desire drove her to do his bidding.
Yes, there were clues, but no easy answers.

He
was a witch, like her. She responded to his kiss, enjoying it far too much,
though she wouldn't admit that to him. He hadn't hurt her, and he knew her
mother. The thought of finding her mother filled her with a sense of comfort.
In all honesty, Rosa, however, couldn't remember her life before coming to
Poiana Brasov, but she hated to think that Clement and Cassandra, who had been
so kind to her, had deceived her. Rosa wouldn't deny her instincts and decided
to follow the clues. When there was a minute, she intended to get her answers
from Michael.

Her
boots secure, she slid her arms into her winter coat. Michael grabbed a scarf
and gloves from a shelf in her closet, presenting them to her. His face
betrayed nothing -- not one hint of pleasure or dissatisfaction. Instead, he
grabbed her gloved hand and led her out of the room.

Rosa
noticed the noise continued outside of the fortress. Just on the other side of
her door, Andrei lay crumpled on the ground. His chest rose and fell. Thank
Corvinus he appeared to be sleeping.

Michael
moved with unnatural speed. His grasp on her hand was tight, tugging her behind
him. They proceeded down the hall toward the servants' staircase.

The
inner fortress remained quiet. Several candles in wall sconces had burnt down
to the stubs, casting long, inky shadows over the stone walls.

Reaching
the staircase, Rosa paused. "I need to check on Rickard."

"There's
no time. We delayed too long as it is." Michael dragged her down the
stairs.

AUTHOR Bio and
Links:

Stephanie
Burkhart is a 911 dispatcher for LAPD.
She was born and raised in Manchester, New Hampshire. She served 11 years in the US Army and
currently calls Castaic, California her home. Stephanie was married in Denmark
in 1991 and has two young sons. She adores chocolate and is addicted to
coffee. She writes paranormal,
contemporary, and steampunk romance and has two children's books published with
4RV Publishing.

FIND ME ON THE WEB
AT:

WEBSITE:

http://www.stephanieburkhart.com

TWITTER:

http://twitter.com/StephBurkhart

FACEBOOK:

https://www.facebook.com/StephanieBurkhartAuthor

GOOD
READS:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4031660.Stephanie_Burkhart

YOU
TUBE CHANNEL:

http://www.youtube.com/user/botrina?feature=mhee

PINTEREST:

http://pinterest.com/sgburkhart/

A cross mixture of paranormal mystery and historical
romance, Sunrise
Over Brasov, the third book in the Moldavian Moon series by Stephanie Burkhart, has interesting
characters and a solid mystery. Set
during the mid-1850’s, after the Gypsy people of Romania had been set free, Ms. Burkhart’s story deals with the
rise of a new breed of werewolf, one who can control the change instead of
being forced into it by either witchcraft or the moon, and the struggle to
determine who will control them. . While
I have not read the previous two books in the series, I was able to read this
book on its own.

Unaware of her own history, Rosa Getzi has been living
at Poiana Brasov and assisting Clement, a werewolf, and Cassandra, a witch, with
their studies of the supernatural. When
a man breaks into her room at night and demands she accompany him into the
woods, she’s reluctant to follow him until he begins to tell her about her past
and of how her family has been trying to locate her. While she’s not comfortable trusting a
stranger, he seems very familiar to her and his kisses ignite her
passions.

Breaking into Poina Brasov to free the woman he loves,
Prince Michael Sigmarigen is disheartened when she doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t know
her real identity. Determined to reunite
her with her family, and improve on their previous relationship, Michael is
able to convince Rosa into escaping the castle with him. Rejoining Caroline, his sister in law, and
Darius, a Vampire prince, they are able to make their escape. They are also unknowingly being followed by Rickard, a
friend of Rosa’s also imprisoned at Poiana Brasov, who has some startling
paranormal abilities and who refuses to be left behind.

While Michael and Rosa have to work through the issues
of her past, they also find themselves drawn into solving the mystery of how
Rickard is able to control his shape shifting abilities; he’s the first
werewolf they’ve encountered who is not tied to the moon’s phases. Something that Clement and Cassandra were
determined to discover before he escaped with Michael and Rosa. Ms.
Burkhart’s world building is very interesting and I liked how she deals
with all of the characters who make an appearance.

Will Michael and Rosa be able to forge a true and strong
relationship once Rosa’s memories are recovered? Will Rickard be able to help them get rid of
the curse that affects their families?
You’ll have to read Sunrise Over Brasovto find out.
While I was able to read this book by itself, I do recommend that you
read the rest of the series to get a better understanding of the history of the
characters and the mystery they end up working to resolve. I’m pretty sure I would have enjoyed this
more if I had read the previous books first.

My
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 Crowns

FTC
Disclosure: I received a complimentary
copy of this book as a part of a book tour in exchange for a fair and honest
review.

Don't forget to leave a comment or question for Stephanie to let her know you stopped by. Stephanie will be awarding A Sunrise Over Brasov Coffee and Chocolate Basket (which includes a Coffee Mug, Starbucks gift card, Andes Chocolate, magnets, and Lori Powell original book bag) to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour. You can follow the rest of Stephanie’s tour here, the more stops you visit the better your odds of winning.

Friday, December 27, 2013

After accidentally killing
everyone in her class, Alice Wonder is now a patient in the Radcliffe Lunatic
Asylum. No one doubts her insanity. Only a hookah-smoking professor believes
otherwise; that he can prove her sanity by decoding Lewis Carroll's paintings,
photographs, and find Wonderland's real whereabouts. Professor Caterpillar
persuades the asylum that Alice can save lives and catch the wonderland
monsters now reincarnated in modern day criminals. In order to do so, Alice
leads a double life: an Oxford university student by day, a mad girl in an
asylum by night. The line between sanity and insanity thins when she meets Jack
Diamonds, an arrogant college student who believes that nonsense is an actual
science.

The writing on the wall says
it's January 14th. I am not sure what year. I haven't been sure of many things
lately, but I’m wondering if it’s my handwriting I’m looking at. There is an
strange key drawn underneath the date. It's carved with a sharp object,
probably a broken mirror. I couldn’t have written this. I'm terrified of
mirrors. They love to call it Catoptrophobia around here.

Unlike regular patients in the asylum, my room
is windowless, stripped down to a single mattress in the middle, a sink, and bucket
for peeing--or puking--when necessary. The tiles on the floor are
black-and-white squares, like a chessboard. I never step on black. Always
white. Again, I'm not sure why. The walls are smeared with a greasy pale green
everywhere. I wonder if it's the previous patient's brains spattered all over
from shock therapy.

In the Radcliffe Lunatic
Asylum, politely known as the Warneford Hospital, the doctors have a sweet spot
for shock therapy. They love watching patients with bulging eyes and shivering
limbs begging for relief from the electricity. It makes me question who is
really mad in here.

It's been a while since I was sent to shock therapy myself.
Dr. Tom Truckle, my supervising physician, said I don't need it anymore,
particularly after I stopped mentioning Wonderland. He told me that I used to
talk about it all the time; a dangerous place I claim I have been whisked away
to when my elder sister lost me at the age of seven.

Truth is, I don't remember this
Wonderland they are talking about. I don't even know why I am here. My oldest
vivid memory is from a week ago. Before that, it's all a purple haze. I have
only one friend in this asylum. It's not a doctor or a nurse. And it's not a
human. It doesn't hate, envy, or point a finger at you. My friend is an orange
flower I keep in a pot; a Tiger Lily I can't live without. I keep it safe next
to a small crack in the wall where a single sun ray sneaks through for only ten
minutes a day. It might not be enough light to grow a flower, but my Tiger Lily
is a tough girl. Each day, I save half of the water they give me for my flower.

As for me, better thirsty than
mad. My orange flower is also my personal rain check for my sanity. If I
talk to her and she doesn't reply, I know I am not hallucinating. If it talks back
to me, all kinds of nonsense starts to happen. Insanity prevails. There must be
a reason why I am here. It doesn’t mean I will easily give in to such a fate.

"Alice Pleasance
Wonder. Are you ready?" the nurse knocks with her electric prod on my
steel door. Her name is Waltraud Wagner. She is German. Everything she says
sounds like a threat and smells like smoke. My fellow mad people say she is a
Nazi; that she used to kill her own patients back in Germany. "Get
avay vrom za dor. I an coming in," she demands.

Listening to the rattling of
her large keychain, my heart pounds in my chest. The turn of the key makes me
want to swallow. When the door opens, all I can think of is choking her before
she begins to hurt me. Sadly, her neck is too thick for my nimble hands. I
stare at her almost-square figure for a moment. Everything about her is four
sizes too big, all except her feet, which are as small as mine. My sympathies,
little feet.

"Time for your daily
ten-minute break," she approaches me with a straitjacket, a devilish grin
on her face. I never get out. My ward is underground, and I take my break in
another empty ward upstairs, where patients love to play soccer with a
hedgehog’s head. A big muscled warden stands behind Watlraud. Thomas Ogier. He
is bald, has an angry-red face and a silver tooth he likes to flash whenever he
sees me. His biceps are the size of my head. I have a hard time believing he
has ever been a 4-pound baby.

"Slide your arms into the
jacket," Waltraud demands in her German accent, a cigarette puckered
between her lips. "Slow and easy, Alice," she nods at warden
Ogier, in case I misbehave. I comply obediently and stretch out my arms for her
to do whatever she wants. Waltraud twists my right arm slightly and checks the
tattoo on my arm. It’s the only tattoo I have. It’s a handwritten sentence that
looks like a thin arm band from afar.

Waltraud feels the need to read it
allowed, “’I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person
then.’” I was told I have written it myself while still believing in
Wonderland. “That Alice in Wonderland has really messed with your
head.” She puffs smoke into my face as she mocks me.

The tattoo and Waltraud’s
mocking is the least of my concerns right now. I let her tie me, and while she
does, I close my eyes. I imagine I am a sixteenth century princess, some kind
of a lucky Cinderella, being squeezed into a corset by my chain smoking servant
in a fairy tale castle above ground, just about to go meet my Prince Charming.
Such imagery always helps me breathe. I once heard that it was hope that saves
the day, not sanity. I need to cool down before I begin my grand escape.

Wonderlander, Neverlander,
Unicorn-chaser, enchanter, musician, survived a coma, &
totally awesome. Sometimes I tell stories. Always luv the little
monsters I write young adult paranormal romance, urban fantasy,
and science fiction mostly. The Grimm Diaries series is a
seven book saga that deals with retellings of fairy tales from a
young adult POV - it connects most of the fairy tales together and
claims to be the truth about fairy tales. I live in San Fransisco and
seriously think circles are way cooler than triangles.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Join author Molly
Snow on her Virtual Book Tour for To Kiss a Werewolf,
presented by Bewitching Book Tours,
from December 16-31, 2013.Please leave
a comment or question below to let Molly know you stopped by.You can follow the rest of Molly’s tour here.

As president of Paranormal Addicts Anonymous,
Stella’s got no time for popular guys. Especially the surfers who hang at
Shoreline’s beach—they think flashing a sand-sprinkled, tanned chest is enough
to get any girl. But when surfer-hunk Damien Capernalli crashes Stella’s PAA
fieldtrip to a haunted bed and breakfast, it may be time to rethink her
priorities.

Sea salt wafted in the humid sky, the full moon
hidden by dark, puffy clouds. Normally, Damien would be feeling on top of the
world. A night at the beach, with a pack of friends and girls—one in particular
basically throwing herself at him. The typical blonde bombshell cheerleader.
Piece of cake. But things weren’t feeling quite right.

Tina wrapped an arm around his, as she sat with him
beside the crackling bonfire. She endlessly giggled, even when he wasn’t
joking. It was way overboard. She was trying too hard, and suddenly she wasn’t
as attractive. Man, why be so serious? he told himself. Just go with it. She’s
hot. You like her. She obviously likes you.

But it was hard to let loose when he kept thinking
about that girl at his uncle’s pizzeria. She must have known him from school.
She had called him by name. So, why couldn’t he put a finger on who she was,
what class they may have taken together? He not only knocked her to the ground
like a fool, he did something else to anger her. If only he knew what that was…
What made it worst of all, he was actually going to accept her request for a
date. It’s just that tonight he already had plans with Tina.

A half hour later, Damien was making out with the
blonde in his jeep. He was going through the motions, but his head still wasn’t
clear. Why was he going to let some random girl from earlier that night ruin
his mood? It was so, so irritating. He wished she never walked into his
workplace. Whoever she was. Whatever her name was. Tonight could have been so
much easier, not being confused over some dark and depressed Goth girl.

As he kissed Tina’s neck, the scent of her floral
perfume quickly morphed from soft and seductive to strong and sickening. As if
he had licked a bar of soap, he could taste the smell. He pulled back and shook
his head, wiping his nose with a shoulder.

Tina’s hands were around his neck the next second.
Her fake fingernails lightly pressed into his skin as she pulled him back down.
Not wanting to totally ruin the moment, he surrendered, and told himself to get
a grip. He moved away from her neck and back to her mouth. Soap. He could still
taste her perfume. Nostrils flared and he pulled back again, cringing.

“Come here,” Tina breathed. “Don’t play hard to get
now.”

He opened his mouth and panted, hoping to release
the flavor. Looking up to the half-moon that peeked through a cluster of dark
clouds, he suddenly felt like gagging. In the next moment, he leapt off the
girl and ran to the center of some fir trees that bordered the beach.

“What’s the matter?!” Her voice trailed after him.

Damien hunched over and grabbed his knees. Something
was wrong. Horribly wrong. He was sure he was going to vomit whatever stomach
flu suddenly overtook him, but instead he felt possessed to howl hoarsely into
the night: “Owoooo!”

About
the Author:

Molly Snow is a Top 10 Idaho Fiction Author, awarded
by The Idaho Book Extravaganza. Her works include quirky teen romances
BeSwitched and Fallen Angel. Also a speaker on writing, her school assemblies
have been featured in The Contra Costa Times and The Brentwood Press. Snow is
married to her high school crush, has a set of silly twin boys and a bobtail
cat named Meow-Meow. Molly Snow also co-writes mysteries under her pseudonym
Claire Kane.

About Me

Welcome to the Queen of All She Reads Blog. I review all genre of books. Whatever catches my fancy. I either purchase the books or receive the books through a book tour, NetGalley, or the publisher. I do not get paid to review any book.
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